


An Accidental Passion

by Jaye_Voy



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 01:30:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5987530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaye_Voy/pseuds/Jaye_Voy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While on an away mission, a member of Voyager's crew drinks an alien aphrodisiac.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Version 1: Is it Hot in Here or Just You?

**Author's Note:**

> AU (no P/T). Set some time after "Day of Honor." Part 2 isn't a continuation of Part 1, it's actually a reset. Part 1 is Version 1, where Tom slurps the carnal concoction. In Part 2 (Version 2), Chakotay imbibes the potent punch. POV switches back and forth.
> 
> Originally written in 2002. Although there are a few tweaks, the story's contents (and its flaws) are mostly intact.
> 
> Star Trek and all related characters and concepts are the property of Paramount. No infringement is intended or profit made. This is NC-17 for m/m sex.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom slurps a carnal concoction.

I suppose the Oolians aren't such bad folks. They were willing to sell us some dilithium at a fair price. They certainly can't help the fact that their atmosphere blocks the transporters and only offers a window for shuttle travel once a day.

And I'm sure the Captain meant well by assigning me this away mission. She sent me down with Chakotay so I could brush up on my diplomatic skills. She was *not* pleased with what I considered "appropriate humor" during the last state dinner we attended. I bet she figures I might pick up a little more finesse by watching Chakotay in action.

That last part is easy. I watch Chakotay all the time.

Like now, following his path with my eyes as he and the Oolian Prime Minister discuss the tapestries lining the reception room walls. Poetry in motion, as someone used to say. Graceful and gracious. Even after the deal has been signed, sealed, and the dilithium delivered to the shuttle. He's just that kind of guy, sincerely interested in other people.

I certainly hope that's all it is. The PM is a pretty foxy lady. Even if that long Oolian nose really does make her look like a fox. I clamp down on my automatic jealousy with an effort and return to my thoughts.

I don't know what the Captain is hoping to achieve here. I'm never going to be that smooth or confident a negotiator, despite the endless drills on diplomacy at the Paris dinner table. I'm too glib. Mostly to hide my nervousness. I also don't have as great a talent to shift perspectives and see other people's points of view. You know, to speak their language---and I'm not talking about the universal translator.

My style is more breezy. It's more about *me* than anything else. That's to my advantage in a casual setting because it makes it easy to "play well with others". But you can't let it all hang out in a formal situation like this, when how well you click is the *only* thing deciding failure or success. My method is too much like a crap-shoot: if the aliens decide they like what they see I'm home free. Of course if they don't, the mission is toast.

I rolled a snake-eyes this time. The Oolians were supremely unimpressed. It was mutual. In fact, they got on my nerves as the day wore on. They kept calling me *youngster*, for crying out loud. So what if they live to be 300? I mean, I'm hardly a baby. I'm only eight years younger than Chakotay. Hello people, do the math. Not even a decade's difference. Sheesh.

Fortunately, they seemed really taken with the Commander, and he figured out what they would accept in exchange for their dilithium. Two hours later it was a done deal. Mission accomplished. I didn't really need to be here at all. 

As we were piloting the shuttle through the turbulence this morning, Chakotay also wondered aloud if the Captain had an ulterior motive for sending me along. Not so much to polish my diplomatic skills as to ensure the shuttle made it back in one piece.

Of course I shot back that couldn't be right because we had the same number of crashes notched on our belts. Unless she was figuring our individual bad karmas would cancel each other out. We grinned at each other and landed without a hitch.

That's the way it is between us now. Light, friendly. We lowered our hackles surprisingly quickly after Voyager started its journey. I was kind of surprised Chakotay dropped his grudge so soon. From his point of view he had a lot of reasons to dislike me, even without my...um, less-than-ideal...attitude back then. Yet even during the Jonas incident when I would have smacked *myself* upside the head for being such a smartass, he mostly kept his cool and gave me the room to grow up a bit. I finally did.

We began to hang out together sometimes, shooting pool and the breeze. There were even a few away missions where we really clicked. But I had never considered the "BG" relationship material. (That's what he's called by the drooling lower decks; Chakotay thinks it means "Big Guy" but it really stands for "Bronze God". And anybody who's seen him in his workout gear knows just how accurate that moniker is. Hubba-hubba.)

But despite the *very* attractive package, in my mind he was like Captain Janeway and Harry---strictly off-limits. Besides, I was still deep in the pool of playful partners who indulged in recreational sex almost like a hobby. Eventually though the pastime palled, and I was debating whether to swim solo for a while.

Chakotay's status didn't change even after I went to see him for some advice. Just a few times, to get my head on straight. I needed to be sure of myself before deciding *not* to get involved with B'Elanna. It touched me more than I can say (and certainly more than my Flyboy rep would ever let him know) when Chakotay kept an open mind about B'Elanna and I becoming a couple. He and B'Elanna are practically related, so it meant a lot that Chakotay thought I was good enough for her. But in the end our lovely half-Klingon stayed firmly in my Friend category.

Chakotay listened as I poured out my jumbled muddle of feelings about B'Elanna and my father and expectation and failure and Caldik Prime and the Maquis and prison and Voyager. I didn't expect to go beyond that first topic but something about being one on one with Chakotay invites confidences. I think it's his eyes, deep and dark and wise. It's like you *know* any secret you share just sinks into the safety of those mysterious pools, never to be revealed to another. Plus the serenity he projects like an aura. Once you get in close range you can't help but relax into what is your true self. "Mystic Warrior" is more appropriate than you might think.

So, I figured out that it was B'Elanna's desperation I was responding to, not her declaration. I was as tired of my cabin's revolving door as she was of being alone. But that's a really shitty reason to start dating someone, so I didn't. I told her we both deserved better, then sat back and waited to be blasted by the hellish fury of a Klingon scorned.

Instead, B'Elanna admitted that she had reached the same conclusion. She didn't want to die without saying those three little words to *someone* in her life, and I just happened to be there when she had her last chance---or so we thought at the time. It surprised me that she would have still become my girlfriend if I had asked. Klingon honor demanded it. That would have been an even worse reason to get involved, so we stayed friends and privately thanked our lucky stars. At least I did.

Anyway, it wasn't until a few months after that I began thinking about Chakotay in *that* way. It actually started with dreams. Steamy, erotic nighttime fantasies in which his incredible eyes smoldered with passion as they tenderly caressed me. All over. And then his hands and lips got into the action. I'm not even sure we ever made it past second base. But shit, I never changed the sheets so many times a week since I was a teenager.

That's when I started watching him. To see if there was any chance Chakotay might be into blonds. Blond men, more precisely. Me, to be specific.

I'm still not sure if I'm reading the signals right. Sometimes our banter does seem to border on flirting, but then he'll draw back. It's been frustrating as hell, especially since the more time I spend getting to know Chakotay the more I want from him. With him, really. I'm starting to think I won't be satisfied until I have everything. You know, the love-honor-cherish-til-death-do-us-part-who-gets-to-carry-the-first-kid kind of everything.

It's a little scary, since I've never wanted to be long-term or exclusive with *anyone* since we landed in the Delta. And now I feel this need to stake a claim. A permanent, obvious, mine-mine-absolutely-all-mine-don't-you-even-*look*-at-him-that-way-you-hussy sign of our togetherness. It certainly knocked me for a loop. And boy, won't Chakotay be surprised.

Well, he will be when I tell him. And I intend to, eventually. Of course, first I have to figure out how to ask him for a date. I know it's my move. It has to be, because of the differences in our ranks. I've considered arranging a stuck turbolift for the two of us. Then if all I get in response to my sure-to-be-babbling suggestion of dinner together is a blank stare and a big-brown-eyed helping of pity I can blame it on temporary insanity. Brought on by claustrophobia.

Hey, I never said it was a *good* plan. That's why I haven't carried it out. I'm sure I can do better. If I just put my mind to it.

Uh-oh, I definitely think that Oolian vixen is trying to put the moves on my man. I don't care that Chakotay doesn't even *know* he's my man yet, I still instinctively bristle.

She's wound her arm around his like kudzu. And a very suspicious-looking goblet of red wine or something is heading their way on an ornate silver tray. Time for me to run some strategic interference.

My mind is a blur. It's like one of those out-of-body experiences when time slows down but you still can't change the outcome. Like fate or something. I swooped down upon the oh-so-cozy twosome just as that Oolian home-wrecker's manicured hand was reaching for the glass. I snagged it before she could and chugged the contents down in three gulps. It was actually pretty good even if it wasn't what I expected. The taste was more like herbal tea than alcohol.

A triumphant click marked the moment I returned the empty goblet to the tray. Then I licked my lips and prepared to subtly---or if necessary, forcibly---detach *that woman* from Chakotay. Then I noticed the absolute silence in the room. And all the shocked faces. I flinched and time slammed back into gear.

This could not be good. I'd completely forgotten our hosts' possible reaction. Hopefully they'll believe it was just the high jinks of a juvenile delinquent. Hell, they've been practically calling me one all damn day. I felt my mouth twitch into a nervous smile.

***************

Tom has always been able to surprise me. That's one of the things I find so refreshing about him. He seems to navigate his life the same way he pilots---instinctively, with absolute confidence in his choice of the moment.

But I have a very bad feeling about this. Just what has Tom done and how can we get out of it unscathed? Gleesa, our lovely host, and I had been enjoying a discussion of traditional arts and crafts in her culture when Tom burst on the scene. He grabbed a richly decorated glass filled with carmine liquid off a tray and aggressively drank it in front of us like he was declaring war or something. I haven't seen anyone suck down liquor that quickly since Wil Riker dragged me to off-campus keggers during my cadet days.

I'm not sure what brought on this sudden thirst in my shipmate. Maybe it's a reaction to accumulated stress. I know Tom hasn't been comfortable here. I've had a few moments myself when I've wanted to let loose and give these people my honest opinion of their rather rude behavior.

Frankly, I thought it was inappropriate and extremely condescending for the Oolians to keep harping on Tom's relative youth. It also didn't help my peace of mind. Their calling him "youngster" made me feel like some doddering ancient. It's not as though we're from different centuries, for Spirits' sake.

It's a shame really, since the last few away missions with Tom have been real treats, opportunities to get to know each other better. I had even been wrestling with the idea of asking Tom why he didn't start a relationship with B'Elanna. I hope it has nothing to do with an aversion to brown-eyed brunets. If so, all of my vague hopes and speculations will be for naught.

The attraction---sexual attraction, at least---has been there since the first time I laid eyes on Tom Paris. Long and lean and golden, he surprised me by inspiring some torrid and rather graphic visions involving the two of us together. It shocked me even more when I reminded myself that I'd never been attracted to a man before, much less contemplating...well, what I'd been contemplating.

It took me over fifteen minutes to get my body and vivid imagination back under control and approach the pilot about flying for the Maquis. Then Tom opened his mouth to sneer at the very idea. Although he eventually accepted my offer, his attitude pretty much pulled the plug on the electrifying connection that arced between us.

We'd been on Voyager a few years before I noticed him again. Or saw him as more than a thorn in my side and later, an OK guy to be around. I can't pinpoint the exact moment, but the reawakening of my awareness came after he and B'Elanna *didn't* get involved.

That was a perfect opportunity for Tom. He could have gone for the quick fuck, or even tried for a real honest-to-goodness relationship. But he did neither. Instead, he took the time to understand himself, and B'Elanna, and what they meant to each other.

That surprised the heck out of me. Impressed me, too. Enough that I would have been happy for my "little sister" if she and Tom had gone down that path. But when they didn't, it seemed my newfound respect for Tom's maturity dug up some other old feelings. Much more personal ones. I started wondering just how two men made a life together. And, I'll admit, how they made love.

But there's not much I could do about it. I sometimes try to make things a little more personal between us when we're spending time together off-duty. But I can't just ask him out. Protocol, the rank difference, the age difference, the background difference---it all adds up to Tom making the first move. And me waiting like some wallflower at a dance, hoping he'll notice me. I haven't really gotten a definite show of interest yet. I think he still sees me as just a friend. So until that situation changes, Tom-watching is simply my favorite spectator sport. He never fails to be entertaining. And he can still leave me stunned.

Like right now. I can see the panic starting to freeze his handsome features into a parody of his usual devil-may-care grin. I instinctively shift into diplomatic mode to protect my shipmate. The fact that I have a more-than-professional interest in his welfare is irrelevant.

I just hope I can talk our way out of this one. "Prime Minister Gleesa, I sincerely apologize for my crewmate's impulsiveness." 

The thought of playing on their patronizing attitude toward Tom grits my teeth, but I manage to keep a straight face. "Sometimes the young fail to think their actions through when seized by a whim. I certainly hope we haven't upset you too much...?" I succeeded in hiding my discomfort as I let my voice trail off hopefully, but to be honest the utter silence in the room was starting to get on my nerves, too.

"He---He---I can't believe he---" Gleesa stuttered, then blinked and suddenly burst into motion. She whirled and started barking orders. "Prepare the Green Room immediately. Make sure all accoutrements are in place."

Gleesa pointed to an older Oolian man wearing a vaguely military uniform. "General Judreau, check among your staff to find a willing and available female. They understand duty and we don't have time for subtlety. Order them if you have to." A motherly-looking female was her next target. "Dr. Koor, we'll need some means to prevent conception---"

"What?!" I heard my own shocked outburst in stereo and shot Tom a look to let me handle this. "Madam, what is going on here? What exactly are you attempting to arrange?"

The Oolian leader's face was a remarkable blend of irritation and impatience. Gone was the serene superiority that had marked the woman's demeanor all day. "Your impetuous Lieutenant has placed his very life in jeopardy, Commander Chakotay. I'm trying to ensure that this First Contact doesn't end in tragedy."

"I don't understand. Was there poison in that glass?" Although I kept my outward calm, my heart filled with fear for Tom. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his face pale as he swallowed convulsively.

"No, not exactly." Here Gleesa turned a glare on the Lieutenant. "The youngster has imbibed a tea steeped from a very exotic blend of herbs. We call it the Lovers' Cup, because both parties drink from it." Her eyes seemed to berate him for his greed. "At least, both parties are *supposed* to."

"Both parties to what?" I was getting a horrible suspicion, but I needed it spelled out completely.

"To an...intimate encounter. The tea removes inhibitions, increases arousal, and ensures performance." The Prime Minister's expression shifted to embarrassment. "I had intended to offer to share it with you, Chakotay."

I blinked. I thought we were hitting it off but it never crossed my mind to hit the sheets with Gleesa. "So Mr. Paris is going to be...uncomfortable for a few hours," I said briskly, covering my own discomfiture. I didn't dare risk a glance at Tom's face. "That doesn't seem the life-threatening condition you suggest. It certainly doesn't warrant ordering someone to bed him."

The touch of Gleesa's hand on my arm reinforced her worried frown. "With a normal dose, I would agree. But your Lieutenant has drunk double the usual amount. Such accidents have happened before, though rarely. The person affected usually exhibits signs of arousal, yes, but also the symptoms of a raging fever. If they do not copulate, the body overheats. Coma is possible, even death."

I could feel the blood drain from my face. I did look at Tom then, and his horror echoed my own. I cleared my throat and concentrated, all business. "But if he climaxes, then the fever dissipates? How much time do we have?"

"I don't know with humans. If he were Oolian, an hour at most." An aide tapped Gleesa on the shoulder and whispered in her ear. She nodded and dismissed him, then turned back to us. "The room is ready, and we're making arrangements for a companion---"

"That won't be necessary," I said firmly, ignoring the incredulous blue eyes trying to drill into mine. "Although the offer is appreciated, we have very strict protocols about interspecies...encounters. Before any type of intimate contact, our physician must confirm that such interaction is safe for both parties, down to the biomolecular level."

That was the truth, and I was profoundly relieved for it. It would have been very awkward indeed to explain I couldn't possibly let some stranger touch Tom because *I* wanted to. And to force him into anonymous, cold-blooded sex after he'd left those days behind was something I wouldn't even consider. Bottom line, I desperately wanted to be Tom's lover, and more. But right now that wasn't nearly as important as being the one-night stand that saved his life.

I gave Gleesa a small shrug. "We can't take the risk of adverse reactions." My eyes were rueful as I regarded her. "That's part of why I would have refused your offer, no matter how tempting." Taking a deep breath and squaring my shoulders, I continued briskly, "Now, if you could show us to the suite?"

I think Tom was in shock, since I hadn't heard a peep of protest from him. I drifted closer to his side in case he fainted.

Gleesa began leading us from the roomful of staring eyes, but resumed her arguments. "I don't think you understand the danger your Lieutenant is in. He needs---" her voice dropped "---full-body contact, to penetrate and ejaculate within another body. Otherwise the fever will---"

"I'm fully aware of both the risk and the remedy, Madam." We stopped before an open set of ornate doors. "Was there anything else I needed to know?" I asked.

"No," Gleesa replied, "but I really think you should let us find a volunteer."

I motioned Tom into the suite. He went without a word. He was really starting to worry me.

The Oolian's surprise was obvious as I stopped her from following to continue the discussion. I gave her a smile, ignoring the blush creeping up my face as I admitted, "We won't be needing one. As I explained, we can't violate our interspecies protocols. So I'll be...accommodating the Lieutenant." I hastily closed the doors with a terse, "Thank you for your assistance, and good night."

As the lock clicked I paused a moment, swamped by the feeling that my life would never be the same.

***************

I was still reeling in shock as I watched Chakotay close the door on Fox Woman's stunned face. I spared a brain cell or two to wonder if they even had same-sex intercourse on this planet. The rest of my mind was absorbing the 'Fuck or die' consequence of my spur-of-the-moment beverage selection.

And that Chakotay was going to be...accommodating me.

Maybe it was the aphrodisiac-fueled fever starting, but my senses were heightened to an almost unbearable intensity. And all of them were focused on my soon-to-be lover. My eyes were dazzled by the way the light gleamed in the strands of Chakotay's glossy black hair and enhanced the honeyed tones of his skin. My nose tingled with the hints of his tantalizing scent as he approached.

The feel of his palm against my forehead drove me to lean my whole body into the gentle touch. I knew I'd soon be lost in a sensual haze.

The hand retreated and I opened my eyes to sink into the heated pools of Chakotay's.

But passion wasn't what I found. Instead it was a mix of tenderness and concern. At least my ears weren't disappointed with the velvety tones of his voice.

"Tom, you do feel a little warm. The preliminary scans we took suggested that the Oolian metabolism is pretty close to our own, but maybe I should go to the shuttle and get a medical tricorder."

"No." I shook my head. "We don't have time."

"Oh. Well, all right. You're the medic." Chakotay surprised me by backing away and sliding around me to cross the room. It was a pretty long walk, across a carpet that was the green of woodland moss. It echoed the painted walls and leaf-patterned curtains.

I let myself notice the bed as Chakotay gracefully slid past it, imagining his bronze skin against the rich coverlet. Oh, yes, he'll look fantastic against the forest-green background.

But first I needed to get him out of his uniform. I wandered over to where Chakotay was inadvertently spiking the heat in my belly higher, just by bending over as he rummaged in a drawer of the nightstand on the right side of the bed.

I stopped a half-meter away and held out my hands, spreading my fingers and miming taking hold of those magnificent, unconscious offerings. I measured the black-covered globes against the span of my grip. They would overflow my double handful, but I certainly wasn't going to complain.

At my lascivious thoughts my cock leapt to life like it'd been struck by lightning. Chakotay straightened and turned to me just as I moaned. He looked startled.

"I know we need lube. Will this do?" His voice trailed off as his wide eyes took in my obviously aroused state. He swallowed, and I watched the Adam's apple bob in his lovely throat. He did it again and his breath quickened as I reached out and plucked the small bottle from his hand.

***************

I tried to stem the sudden surge of trepidation in my gut. I felt pinned by a heated gaze that was more dilated black than the familiar ocean blue. Then Tom licked his lips like he was about to enjoy a hearty meal.

And I think I'm the only thing on the menu.

Tom's eyes slowly shifted to the tiny vial in his hand. He brought it close and uncapped it, putting one drop on the pad of his index finger. He rubbed it languidly against the tip of his thumb. He brought it to his nose as if checking for a scent, then tasted the oil. After a moment his eyes opened to look at me again and it suddenly occurred to me that I was trapped. The nightstand was behind me, the wall on one side. The only way I could move was onto the bed or through Tom.

I didn't even know why I was looking for an escape. Tom's life was at stake. And I *wanted* this, wanted him. I'm even pretty sure I love him. But I just felt so off-kilter. I'm not really sure what Tom thinks or feels about me. I had only the most basic understanding of what lay in store for me. And none of my female lovers had ever seemed so...overwhelming.

"I'm sorry," I blurted, trying to banish the silence that thrummed between us. "That I couldn't let an Oolian...help you. That I didn't give you a choice." I licked my own lips, nervous. "I'm sorry," I repeated.

Tom seemed not to hear me as his gaze homed in on my mouth. Then he moved and there was definitely nowhere to run.

He stepped forward to put the oil on the nightstand. Only he did it by reaching both arms around me, pressing my legs against the furniture and his body into mine. "Don't be," he murmured, and I felt the words as much as heard them.

Then he kissed me.

It was strange, to be embraced by a body taller than my own. Cupping hands tilted my head just a fraction to better meet the warm lips seeking mine. I let my arms enfold Tom, bringing his slender form closer. My lingering uncertainties weren't important, and I didn't want to send any mixed signals. I opened my mouth, issuing an invitation.

It was accepted with alacrity as a talented tongue swept past my lips and teeth to take the grand tour. Tom's hands drifted over me, stroking my neck, running along my shoulders. I felt his nails lightly pressing as they swept down my back and firmly gripped my buttocks. I shivered in reaction to the unfamiliar possessive clasp and the way Tom pulled me tight to his own body. I felt his hard cock against my own through our clothes. The sensation was indescribable and I moaned and shifted further into him, wanting more.

***************

I felt Chakotay's breath flow into my mouth along with a moan that stroked like raw silk along my nerves. He was warm and strong, both solid and yielding in my arms. The sweetness of his mouth was intoxicating, and I was giddy with his taste and scent and the feel of his body against mine.

My eyes fluttered open as I drew back. I had to see him, touch all of that golden-brown skin. His eyes popped open in surprise as I spun us and pushed him to sit on the bed. I hastily tore off my boots and socks and threw them away. His confusion cleared when I dropped to my knees and started pulling off his footwear, tossing his stuff after mine so the pieces landed somewhere in the middle of the room.

"We're not gonna need 'em," I answered the silent question as his dubious gaze followed the last boot bouncing onto the carpet. I tugged Chakotay up with me as I stood and began undoing his jacket with a concentrated efficiency.

He began chuckling at my ruthless eagerness as I stripped him. "Are you trying to set a record here, Tom?"

"Mmmhmm," I replied as his face disappeared behind his turtleneck. He was helping me despite his amusement, lifting his arms for me to draw the gray cloth off his body. I flung it with the rest, then stopped in shock.

"Your underwear is *silk*?" I squeaked as my cock got hotter and even harder. Instead of the Starfleet-issue tank top, Chakotay was wearing one of black silk. Mesmerized, I ran my hands down the shimmering cloth, watching it pull taut over the muscles underneath. Chakotay shivered again as I let my fingers roam.

I raised my head to meet Chakotay's gaze. His eyes glimmered with a mix of burgeoning desire, warm humor, and good-natured chagrin. Then he leaned forward to nuzzle my neck while his hands started removing my jacket. "Yes," he said, the puff of his breath a prelude to the slide of a heated mouth along my throat, down to my collar and up again to play with my earlobe. "I have a confession to make."

He paused to whip both of my shirts over my head at once and returned to suck at the base of my neck. And damn he was good at it. I flung my head back and gripped his shoulders, feeling skin as soft as the silk. I barely heard Chakotay as he continued, "I'm a closet hedonist." A sharp bite emphasized the teasing threat, "Don't tell anyone."

When he pulled back, I looked into the smoldering dark eyes of my dreams. There was weight and heat in them that I could feel as he slowly examined my half-naked body. I was panting by the time he was done, struggling to regain some measure of coherence and control. "Is that right, Cha?" was my breathless query. My fingers found the small bumps of Chakotay's nipples through the silk and teased them into hardness. I was stunned when he surged into my caress with a shockingly arousing groan. I needed to be inside him, soon.

***************

"Yes," I replied in a sound that lasted about a minute and seemed to come from the bottom of my lungs. Tom's hands had slipped to my waist to skim up my torso as he pushed off my top---and he was taking his own sweet time about it. His touch was sparking along my nerves, tightening my flesh, heightening my awareness of him. After he finally threw the cloth away I dropped my own fingers to slide them along Tom's pale shoulders. My thumbs stroked his collarbone. "I can't stand rough cloth against my skin," I explained in a voice huskier and deeper than my usual register. "I even have satin sheets on my bed."

Tom started a string of stinging, nipping kisses from my jawline to my chest. I nearly shrieked as his mouth and hand began tormenting my nipples. It took me a moment to realize he was speaking again.

"That's pretty extravagant, Chakotay. It would be more practical to save your rations and replicate silk pajamas." My arousal spiked as Tom slid to his knees once more, eagerly undoing my trousers. I couldn't spare a breath to answer as Tom teased my erection through the silk of my boxers. After a few groaning moments cool air met my erection as it was freed by clever fingers. The cloth pooled at my ankles and the guiding hands urged me to lift one foot at a time. Then the rest of my uniform was sent to join its other half.

I urged Tom to stand and swiftly finished unclothing him. "There's a very good reason I don't do that." When he was naked I paused a moment to look at him again. My first male lover.

His skin was pale, warmed with a pink flush of arousal. He was as I had imagined him, tall and slim but with lightly defined muscles. His limbs were decorated with fine hairs, and his chest was covered with a golden down. It trailed in a bright line to where more wiry counterparts clustered at the juncture of his thighs. Between them his cock arched long and full.

I looked up into blue eyes that were hungry and glittering in a face transformed by fierce need. "Why is that, Chakotay?" Tom asked, closing the gap between us.

"I sleep in the nude," I answered, and the next thing I knew I was flat on my back on the bed.

***************

Shit I couldn't wait anymore. The fever and desire were rising together in me, and the thought of Chakotay in his cabin on Voyager, asleep, naked and wrapped in satin sheets put me into overdrive. I managed to shift us so his head was lying on the pillows and I was lying on top of him. I snagged the tiny bottle to set it on the bed beside us and pushed a knee between his muscled legs. They immediately parted for me and our groins brushed once more, startling us both into gasping.

Then I ran my hands and mouth over his silky skin, exploring my prize. Bronze God was no exaggeration; he was like something crafted for worship. The sharp planes of his face were gentled by the deep mystery of his eyes and those soft, full lips. I ran my hands along his powerful shoulders, the muscles perfectly matching the smooth strength of his chest and abdomen. I could feel his simply beautiful cock digging into my belly. My own yearned to be buried deep.

***************

Tom's lips and hands were everywhere on my skin. He licked under my chin and ran his teeth along my throat. His hands gently feathered down my sides like a promise even as I felt his hot mouth move to my chest. He seemed to know instinctively where I wanted just a light flick of his tongue, where the graze of his teeth would send my hips bucking up into him. And all I could do was offer him more, beg him for more. Spirits, I had never felt so raw with a lover before.

And Tom was definitely a man on a mission, learning my body. His touch was strong and certain. Not really rough, just intense. After some time he ran his hands down my arms and gripped my wrists, lifting and pressing them into the pillow as he thrust his body onto mine. Imprinting himself on me. I could smell his arousal and the musk of his skin as we kissed once more, his sweat coating me with his scent.

I lifted my head and body, sucking Tom's tongue into my mouth and cradling his hips with my thighs. He seemed to be hotter, his skin a brand against my own. It was definitely time.

***************

I reluctantly ended the kiss and sat back to spread Chakotay's thighs wider. I retrieved the oil and thoroughly slicked my fingers. I checked that he was still willing, and ready for this. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of him, the Bronze God offering himself to a mere mortal.

I needed to claim Chakotay. Completely, entirely.

I moved my hand and delicately traced the opening hidden between those firm globes. I breached it with one finger, and felt Chakotay instinctively tense. I looked into his eyes, willing him to trust me. "Relax, Cha. Let me in."

Chakotay's response surprised me. I felt his whole body soften and open up, letting my finger slide in to the knuckle with no resistance. But what got me, made my heart lurch and cock twitch, was the sound he made. He gave a contented little sigh of my name, a sign of welcome. Shit, I only needed to hear it once and I knew I'd never forget it. And no question, I was instantly addicted. I wanted to hear my name slide past Chakotay's lips for the rest of my life.

I stroked with one finger for a moment, getting him used to the sensation. Chakotay started pumping with me, writhing a little, making more noises deep in his throat. The sight was making my cock weep as I watched him watch me as he moved his hips in a slow, sensual dance. There was a low sound of disappointment from both of us when I pulled out.

***************

Tom had two fingers gliding inside of me, oiling and preparing my body for his. I relaxed as much as I could, trying to make things easier on both of us. I was unprepared for how sensual this connection is. I knew what men needed to do to make penetration a pleasure rather than a pain. But knowing and experiencing were two very different things.

There was something so...primal about what Tom is doing. He's breaching my core, finding his way to a place that has known no other touch. In my heart, as well as my body. At this moment I can't imagine anyone else's hand upon me, any other life entwined with mine.

The uncertainty is gone. I know I love him.

And then those long clever fingers reached a little deeper and I gasped in shock. My pelvis lifted, seeking to repeat the internal sizzle of sensation. From my reading I know Tom's just found my prostate from the inside. Whoever wrote that manual didn't do the experience justice. Tom stroked the same spot again and sent my limbs shuddering in reaction as I moaned helplessly.

***************

Oh that was just it. I can't hear Chakotay make one more sound without me inside him or I swear I'll explode. I shifted to rest the head of my cock against his opening. I started to push forward, holding his hips and staring into his beautiful eyes.

Chakotay relaxed once more, letting me glide all the way in. Then he sighed my name again. I don't even think he's aware he's doing it. I'm overwhelmed with sensation, having all that wonderful strength and softness beneath me, all around me. The sense of welcome. Belonging. The moment stretched into eternity.

I felt gentle hands stroking my sides in languid caresses. They wandered to cup my buttocks, not pulling or gripping, just a light squeeze as if to confirm our connection. Completing a circuit.

Then the heat clenching around my cock kicked off the fever-driven urge to drive, to claim, to mate. I began to thrust, using my hands to adjust Chakotay's legs. I leaned forward to feast on his throat. Reveling in his groans, half-formed words interspersed with my name.

Chakotay rose to meet me, driving me deeper into the embrace of his body. His chest began to heave and I knew that he was close. I felt the heat, the need, building within me to manic levels. I shifted up to stare into his eyes, seeing passion and tenderness and mystery. Secrets revealed, veils parting to admit me to the heart and soul of the man in my arms.

***************

It was too much. Tom sliding into me, driving forward, his quick pants almost sounding like sobs. I gripped his body a little tighter, lifting my hips. Desperate to join with him, to complete our merging, to become one flesh.

His eyes were on mine and I could sense their searching. They were asking me for something, a pull I felt resonate throughout my being. It was as if Tom was seeking a path into my soul, not just into my body. The intensity built between us and I became afraid of what I might reveal. Some shred of self-preservation closed my eyes at the sight of my beloved, my mate. And in this moment of thrust with no retreat, my conqueror.

A strangled, guttural voice penetrated my darkness. "Don't hide from me." It was not an order, but a fervent plea. I could no more resist it than I could have let Tom die by denying him my body. It seems whether he knows it or not, my heart and soul came with it. I opened my eyes.

He was some kind of gilded icon, golden and gleaming with sweat. Tom's eyes were incandescent as he realized I had heard him. He nodded acknowledgement, his face tense with our drive to fulfillment. He reached one hand between us. In the rush of new sensations I'd practically forgotten my cock. Tom's coaxing touch along my length reminded me of its aching fullness.

His strokes and squeezes brought me over the precipice. With a hoarse groan I climaxed, lightning flashing through me in an endless arc of pleasure. My eyes were still locked to his as semen gushed forth to coat his hand and my stomach as my body fiercely gripped his.

***************

I was being squeezed to death. Inside by the drive to fuck, to leave my seed within a body even more beautiful in completion. Outside by Chakotay's hands clasping my buttocks, his hot channel spasming around my cock, and his eyes. Eyes that were a window to his soul. The dark pools filled with a kind of shocked joy even as his cries echoed in my ears.

Then my own release gripped me in a white-hot surge. All I knew was the plunge into Chakotay's flesh, the scent of sex heady in the air around us as I added to it. I kept moving, cum pulsing out of me as I groaned loud and long.

I flopped onto sweaty, fragrant skin, utterly spent.

***************

I was still shuddering in the aftermath when Tom's dead weight toppled onto me. His cock slipped out and I sensed an unfamiliar liquid coating my buttocks and thighs. As well as a few twinges in secret places. I gathered him close despite the pool of cum smeared on my belly. A sigh of relief ghosted past my lips. I could feel Tom's skin cooling to normal as I stroked his sweat-soaked hair.

It was an effort, but I got us both under the covers before I too drifted into sleep.

************************************************************

A raging thirst drove me out of my slumber and into the bathroom for some glasses of cold water. I blinked and yawned as I returned to the bed. I kicked the too-heavy covers away and slid onto the mattress.

I propped my head on my hand and stared at Chakotay. He was lying on his side facing me. I let my fingertips brush against his as I drank in his quiet beauty.

I felt profoundly shaken, smashed apart and rearranged to the bottom of my soul. I had no idea I would feel this way.

The dreamy fantasies, my half-serious decision to make Chakotay my lifemate, even all of my vast experiences with sex hadn't prepared me for love. The feeling was utterly devastating. And making love is definitely what we did.

As I'd always known, always dreamed, Chakotay's dark eyes set me aflame with a look at once caressing and claiming. I've had sex with a lot of people, but as our gazes locked I knew it'd never been like this. So...elemental. Most people I end up in bed with are in it for the fuck. Maybe they think I'm cute or something, but really I'm just a notch or two above a warm body. I've never felt as though anyone really wanted *me*. The whole of me, not just the pretty face or ass.

With Chakotay it's...more. More intimate, more intense. More personal and profound. When he looks at me it's like he's seeing deep into who I am. And he doesn't flinch away. He welcomes me, and let's me know him in return.

The real person behind the stoic Commander façade. I never knew a man could make himself so vulnerable but still be so strong. From the first moment I touched him I knew Chakotay was a very responsive lover, moaning and arching, giving himself to me. He really is a hedonist. I'd never met anyone who simply *enjoyed* an experience so much. At first I figured he was just getting off on the sex. But then I realized he was reacting to *me*. Most of his breathy pleas were my name. It was the most erotic thing I've ever heard. Not to mention that sigh that just sails right to the heart of me.

And Chakotay embraced me the whole time, his hands running along my spine, across my shoulders and down my arms with a kind of wonder. As if he were proving to himself I was there. Even when I captured his hands his eyes still glowed as they accepted me, encouraged me.

And when he welcomed me into his body, I knew it was more than just a physical connection. I felt like some part of my---what? soul, heart, mind?---was yearning and reaching out for him.

When Chakotay closed his eyes I wanted to cry. I was so desperate, so shaken and needy. I don't even know what I said to him, but when he opened his eyes again I knew that we were bound together. Flesh to flesh, mind to mind, hearts and spirits joined.

I grinned to myself at all the sappy things I had stored up to tell my lover. Won't he be surprised.

At least I'm no longer worried about asking him out on a date.

Chakotay stirred and turned over, showing me the lovely lines of his back and legs. I felt a flush of desire as I scooted a little closer. I had to touch all that honey-gold skin, cool and smooth as silk. One finger followed the line of his backbone to where it flowed down to those sumptuous buttocks.

With a smile I lightly pressed my fingers into the dimples at the bottom of Chakotay's back. They were utterly adorable. And incredibly sexy. My eyes traced the carved muscles of his thighs and those exquisite calves. Damn, he was hot. And making me even hotter.

I swallowed as sweat broke out on my forehead. Even the sudden chill of realization couldn't bring down my temperature any.

That damn Oolian aphrodisiac must have kicked off another cycle of life-threatening desire. And this time there was no slow build, just a sudden surge of heat and need. I had to have Chakotay *now*. I knew instinctively that I wouldn't survive too long without coming. This really was 'fuck or die'. I moved forward and reached out for Chakotay's sleeping form.

***************

I woke lying on my side. A strange burning sensation ran all along my back but was centered on my ass. "Tom?" the question was a gasp.

"I'm sorry, Cha. No time for prep. I thought I was just horny from looking at you, naked and beautiful in my bed. But it's starting again and it's happening way too fast. I have to---I need you. Now." Tom's hot forehead pressed into my nape. "This is probably going to hurt. I'm so sorry."

The messages from my body sorted themselves out. Tom's fever was back, his skin almost unbearably hot where it touched my own. The blunt head of his cock was breaching me, seeking entrance. By the temperature of the body behind me, we didn't have much time. I slid back a little despite the discomfort. I kept the worry from my voice with effort. "What can I do to help?" I felt a grateful squeeze from a hand on my shoulder.

***************

My voice was strained. "Pull your knee to your chest." My hand moved down to stroke the muscular leg now folded into Chakotay's torso, while I used my other hand to part Chakotay's buttocks. So I could force my way in. The bitterness of that thought froze me. I couldn't move, suddenly unwilling to hurt Chakotay despite the urge and the fever driving me. And the temptation before me.

"Tom? Tom, why did you stop?" Chakotay couldn't turn with me pressed so tightly to him, but he must have guessed I was having second thoughts. "Tom, keep going. You have to...it's the only way to break the fever." His voice became a little desperate with my lack of response. "Please, Tom, I---I want you to. I want you." He lifted his head, and I felt his hair tickle my throat. "I love you."

The soft words jolted my heart and soul. They made me burn hotter than any alien fever. I was too overwhelmed to speak or move. Then I rained kisses along Chakotay's cheek and jaw, and hugged him as tightly as I could. I started inching forward again. He relaxed and let me in, and I trembled as I heard that little sigh.

***************

The twinges of pain in my ass gave way to a burning. When Tom paused a moment to let me get used to the still-unfamiliar fullness I released my leg.

Tom's hand brushed along my side in soothing strokes from shoulder to knee and I felt a rumble of pleasure build in my chest. When his fingers wandered forward to play with my nipples I began moaning again. He started to move and I caught his sense of wild urgency, slamming back to meet his punishing strokes.

***************

I was losing it again, the heat and pressure expanding outward from my core. One hand was gripping Chakotay's shoulder hard enough to leave bruises, I knew, but I couldn't help myself. I had to be so deep inside him and it had to be now. I managed to be less brutal with my other hand as I began lightly squeezing my lover's balls and stroking his hard sex in time with my thrusts.

Our climax came together. All I remember is the heat and tightness and the fierce pleasure of knowing the man I loved felt the same.

Then all was blackness once more.

************************************************************  
************************************************************

I woke up alone, my body sore and strained and sticky with Tom's dried semen as well as my own. I couldn't quite believe I'd been abandoned as I sat up and glanced around the room.

But there was no sign of Tom. His uniform was nowhere in sight, and I could see enough of the bathroom through the open door to know he'd been and gone.

The despair that slammed into me made me gasp. I brought up my legs and wrapped one arm around them, resting my forehead against my knees as the other hand scrubbed through my hair. I've been such a fool. I should never have told Tom I love him.

I thought he and I had forged a connection, established a bond, started a relationship. But the silence that greeted my confession last night and the empty suite this morning are telling me a very different story.

It seems I read too much into the experience. After all, I was just doing Tom a favor, fucking him to save his life. The poor guy probably had a panic attack last night when he heard me start spouting like that. I can't believe I let that slip. I don't even have an alien aphrodisiac to blame it on. Just my own hopes and dreams, leading me astray. I've probably ruined any chance with Tom now, since I wouldn't want him to date me out of some misguided sense of obligation.

Not that there's any reason to think he'd do that, since he's already proved with B'Elanna that he's strong enough not to give in to feelings of pity. I just hope we can salvage something of our friendship and professional camaraderie.

But it's going to be hard to go back to sitting on the sidelines where Tom's concerned. I don't think I'll be able to watch him without wanting him. Or want him without doing something about it.

Maybe it would be better to just pretend this never happened.

I snorted at the ridiculousness of that idea. How do you just forget the love of your life? I tried to look on the bright side. At least my life debt to Tom is paid. If nothing else, I do have that small consolation.

Of course, my life is his more irretrievably now than it was when he helped me out of the Ocampan tunnels. The irony is bittersweet.

I sighed, crossed my arms over my knees and rested my chin on them. It was going to be a long day. The first of many. And at that moment I really didn't feel up to any of it. I closed my eyes.

***************

I slipped inside the suite, trying to be as quiet as possible to keep from waking Chakotay. As I turned I saw him sitting dejectedly in an otherwise empty bed and knew I'd screwed up big time. He obviously figured I'd ducked out to avoid an embarrassing scene or something. Based on my clam routine at the critical moment last night, there wouldn't be any reason for him to think otherwise.

If I know Chakotay I'm only going to get one chance at making this right. If he thinks I only want to be with him out of pity or guilt or something he'll retreat so fast I'll never catch him.

And I *have* to catch Chakotay, and keep him. If I don't there won't be much point to the rest of my life.

I silently made my way to the bed and knelt next to it. My touch on Chakotay's arm startled him out of his morning musings. For a heartbeat his eyes were alight at the sight of me, but then I watched him slip behind his stoic façade. When he finally gave me a nod and the barest hint of a smile he's a portrait of professional concern. "How are you feeling, Tom?"

I couldn't stand it. I knew this man's soul and his heart and his embrace and damn it, that's where I belong. So I forgot all of my spur-of-the-moment speeches and reached up to grab Chakotay's hair and haul him down so his mouth slanted over mine. I put everything I had into the kiss, more passion than any stupid alien cocktail could ever induce and all the love I had yet to share.

I nearly lost it when I felt Chakotay respond, cradling my face in his palms. After a moment he took control of the kiss and wow! was the only thought in my head. He gave me a tongue-fucking that made me wonder what else that talented mouth can do.

I was calculating how long it would take to strip and offer my ass to the Bronze God when Chakotay released me. He's so damn beautiful I felt my heart ache in response and I whispered "I love you" before I was even aware of it.

He looked at me in wonder. Chakotay's eyes were glowing as he intertwined his fingers with mine. The corner of his mouth turned up in his heartbreaker smile. I sagged with relief. He believed me. Then I saw a twinkle enter the dark brown gaze. "Are you sure? You can't take it back, you know. No more waving it away as part of Gleesa's drink."

"Oh, I'm sure," I said as I shifted his legs down so I could rest my arms on them over the blanket. "I'm very sure." I clasped one cloth-covered knee as I recalled the misunderstanding I inadvertently caused. "I was going to tell you last night, Cha, but...I couldn't. I'm sorry."

The smile he gave me then was one I'd never seen. Soft and loving, it wrapped me with its gentle warmth. "I missed you this morning," Chakotay admitted to me. "Where were you?"

I moved one hand to slide the items out of my jacket. "I went to the shuttle to use the medical tricorder to make sure I *was* as good as I felt. There's no damage and no residual traces of the Oolian herbs." I shrugged. "Then I grabbed it and a regenerator and headed back here. I knew you'd need some healing, Cha. I wasn't exactly careful last night."

"That wasn't your fault, Tom." Chakotay leaned forward to reassure me. His fingers carded through my hair and I shivered with delight.

"I know," I replied, "but I don't like the thought of you hurting."

"Thank you," Chakotay said as his hand moved to caress my face. I leaned into the touch and closed my eyes. I heard a chuckle above me.

"Keep those baby blues wide open, Tom. You'll need to see if you're actually going to use that equipment. I'm surprised you don't know that, being a medic and all." I looked up with a grin to match Chakotay's own. Chakotay was actually teasing me. Shit, I was so happy I thought I'd burst.

"OK, turn over," I told him. He did as requested and as I removed his cover I had to stifle my immediate arousal. I concentrated on soothing the irritated tissues with the regenerator. "I'm going to prescribe a shower, breakfast with the Prime Minister," I rolled my eyes at another morning of being called "youngster", "then a quick trip to Voyager."

"Any recommendations once I get there?" Chakotay's voice was muffled as he'd pillowed his face on his crossed arms. Even so I could hear his wicked grin.

"Once the report is filed I suggest complete bed rest. Of course, I'll need to be there to monitor your condition personally. And to conduct some tests." I patted his backside to let him know I was done.

"Tests?" Chakotay turned over, confusion crinkling his tattoo. "What kind of tests?"

"Oh, very scientific experiments." I stated solemnly while trying not to leer at his tantalizing display. "Involving a handsome hedonist, satin sheets, some lube, his dick, and my ass."

"Ah," Chakotay nodded gravely. "I can see why you'd want to compare the effects of the parameter changes while the original conditions and results were fresh in your mind."

"That's right, BG, so you'd better get moving." I smiled and flushed with pleasant remembrances as I watched him disappear into the bathroom. I was tempted to follow but I knew we'd be naked again together soon enough. I could wait.

Chakotay's head appeared around the doorway. "BG? Big Guy? I'm not sure that's the best choice for a nickname, Tom. After all you *are* taller than me." He popped back into the room again and I heard the shower start running.

I couldn't wait. I peeked in as Chakotay started soaping up. Shit, maybe we'd better skip breakfast. "Trust me, Cha," I said while eyeing my lover, my love, my Bronze God through the steam, "It suits you perfectly."

END OF VERSION ONE


	2. Version 2: Gentleman Prefers Blond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chakotay imbibes the potent punch.

I always know exactly where Tom Paris is. Take right now, in the middle of the Oolian welcoming reception. Voyager's fair-haired pilot at this moment is standing exactly 8.5 meters due west of my position. He's not happy, which is not surprising, considering the condescension he's been dealing with all day.

I remember well the first time I became aware that I was unconsciously tracking Tom. The shock of the realization froze me in my tracks in the middle of Voyager's holodeck resort. On that evening, without warning, I found myself preternaturally aware of his presence in relation to mine. The flash of his hair in the corner of my eye, the lilt of his voice at the edge of my hearing. A golden thread seemed to stretch between us, one that linked us on some level that was below conscious choice but above pure instinct. At least, that's what *I* felt. I have no illusions it was mutual.

That was some months ago. Since that moment, if we are in a room together I have no need to guess where Tom is physically. I just know. I also sense some of what he's hiding beneath all the smartass comments and the brittle mask he sometimes still shapes his face into when he seeks to hold others at bay.

This new ability of mine isn't any great mystical talent. It's simply a shift in priority, in perspective. An acknowledgement of feelings that had lain dormant for years.

I have always been attracted to blondes. A personal quirk that I discovered when I left home to attend the Academy. It didn't matter that I was only 15. As soon as I settled on Earth I knew that I'd never be able to marry a woman from my tribe. I wouldn't be happy with a brunette. Maybe it's a symptom of my innate contrariness, or some psychological predisposition. Who knows? I certainly didn't care. As I reached the age for dating, sex, and love, my preference became well-established. I never varied from my infrequent but exclusive diet of light-haired ladies.

So years later when I followed my contact into a backwater dive to recruit a pilot for the Maquis, the first thing I noticed about the person in question was their hair. In fact, it was the only thing I could see over the back of the bench, bright strands gleaming in the murky light of the bar.

I was a little annoyed at my own interest. There I was, devastated by the death of my father, the destruction of my homeworld, the abandonment of the Starfleet career I'd sacrificed so much for. Hardened by what I'd seen, what I'd been forced to do as a Maquis Captain. And exhausted from days of fighting with only a few hours' sleep. Yet my libido spiked at the sight of that blonde head.

From my body's reaction I assumed it was a blonde head, that is, a female one. As I circled the booth to slide into the opposite seat I was shocked to see that the locks in question actually belonged to a man. A sloppy, thin, rather careworn male whose sharp blue eyes regarded me with equal measures of distrust and disdain.

I barely heard the introductions as I plopped onto the other bench and shifted in. The desire I felt should have subsided immediately upon discovery that the blond in question was clearly the wrong gender. Yet there I was for the first time in my life, aroused by a lean, undeniably handsome, fair-haired *man*. It was unbelievable. Simply ridiculous. I wouldn't have had a clue what to do with him even if he'd been interested.

It certainly didn't help matters that my brain started filling in the blanks with images frankly pornographic. I was glad for the dimness of the bar to cover my flush and the opacity of the table hiding my incipient hard on.

Then my golden vision opened his mouth and solved my problematic attraction for me. His obvious disregard for everyone and everything---including the Maquis---pretty much cured me of my uncharacteristic bout of homosexual lust. The haggling over his fee, which was liberally sprinkled with typical Paris wisecracks, was a rasp against the edges of my frayed patience and sleep-deprived control. I don't think Tom has any idea how close he came to serious bodily harm that night. Yet, strangely, I was also grateful to him. He was so obnoxious a person I had no qualms about writing off the spark of interest as nothing more than an aberration born of exhaustion.

Looking back, I sometimes wonder if I was just a little too eager to dismiss Tom and his effect on me, however temporary. Especially when I recall how quickly after that I took up Seska on her offer---and she wasn't even blonde, just female and available. Our affair was over almost before it began, and long before she turned on me I knew it was a mistake. A costly one.

In any case, Voyager and some irony-loving fate brought Tom and I together again, and we settled down into an uneasy, sharp-edged truce. He excelled at rattling my composure and testing the limits of my patience, much to my chagrin. His cutting remarks always struck too close to home; they stung. And occasionally I would sink to his level, my disdain a clumsy swipe seeking to wound in return.

I don't think it was very effective. I doubt my opinion of Tom mattered all that much to him.

That stark, painful truth was brought home to me the day Voyager's hero made his appearance on Neelix's show to "apologize" for his deliberate insubordination to flush out the spy on board. I was already reeling, from the shock of Kathryn's distrust in me and my abilities, of Tuvok's second betrayal. I was questioning whether there was any point to my sticking around at all in Voyager's command structure, since I was apparently such a superfluous part of it.

Not to mention what a fool I felt, spending all those weeks trying to understand Tom's behavior. Offering to listen or help. When I discovered it was all an act, part of an elaborate plot, I nearly threw up. My guts rebelled so strongly to the thought of being used that way, on such a personal level, by people I had thought of as friends.

And Tom's mocking words, delivered to the whole of the crew, simply twisted the knife deeper. At first I thought he was simply a cruel, cruel bastard to kick a man when he was down. Then I decided that Tom was simply incapable of anything more, or better. Perhaps he figured that his little speech *did* set things right between us.

So I waited for a private moment, thanked him for his public apology, and backed off. I avoided him completely in my off-duty time and became indifferent to him professionally. Whereas before I was doing my best to make sure Tom matured into the exceptional officer I thought he could be, after the Jonas incident I simply accepted him for the mediocre one he often was. As long as he stayed on the right side of the regs he was fully and solely Kathryn's "reclamation project". I washed my hands of him.

Ironically, after I no longer cared he began to improve. He became respectful and courteous, his biting wit gentled, his level of responsibility increased. He became a pleasure to know.

So Tom and I began the third phase of our complicated history. We delicately moved, step by cautious step, from merely professional acquaintances to casual ones. It wouldn't be unusual for us to hang around after the rest of our group left the holodeck for the night, just talking or shooting pool. Surprisingly enough, having fun in each other's company. I opened myself up to him, slowly. We were drifting into a true friendship.

Then that horrible shuttle accident occurred. We came so close to losing both B'Elanna and Tom, and I realized how much I would have missed them. Both of them.

Soon after that Tom asked to see me, off the record but in my capacity as a counselor. He had an important decision to make and needed a sounding board. I was honored that he would have such trust in me, and accepted his conditions.

Those sessions were a revelation. I learned so much more about the man behind the Flyboy persona. His life hadn't been as easy as I'd always imagined, and I confirmed my suspicion that his braggadocio hid a rather sensitive soul. One that was now considering reaching out to B'Elanna, who was apparently in love with him. At least, that's what she'd said with what she thought was her dying breath. Tom wasn't sure how he felt about her at first, but eventually he made a choice and peace with himself. He thanked me for my time and advice, but didn't tell me his decision.

That night, I watched Tom approach B'Elanna at the resort and wondered if they would be a couple soon. It was as I was walking out that I realized I could sense Tom had moved. And I knew I desperately wanted him shifting *away* from B'Elanna. Because somewhere along the line my long-forgotten passion had awakened with a vengeance, and deepened into love.

I had given in to the visceral attraction of Tom's golden charms. Succumbed to the irresistible lure of his mercurial spirit, quick mind, and paradoxical soul.

As soon as I opened my eyes to the state of my heart I was lost to the blond completely. Tom was a constant guest in my thoughts, hovering in the back of my brain; he became the focus of my existence. Like a lodestar he dictated my movements as I traveled in his wake.

Or, in moments like this, he's the center of my personal orbit, my satellite to his bright sun.

With a mental shake at my distraction I deliberately returned my attention to Gleesa, the Oolian Prime Minister and our host. After all, her people have given us a very good price for their dilithium. It had already been delivered to the shuttle Tom and I brought down to the planet through the once-a-day atmospheric window.

The Oolians were also articulate and intelligent, with only a single flaw. They lived to three centuries, so they tended to look down their rather vulpine noses at species whose lifespans weren't nearly as long. They spent the day calling Tom "youngster". It was reflex with them I think, but that didn't make it any easier to hear. I already knew about the age difference between Tom and myself, and I could have done without the reminder.

But diplomatic duty doesn't end until you're safely behind locked doors---on your own ship. So I made an effort at genuine interest in the planet's culture, producing some vague comment about the room's tapestries. Which inspired Gleesa to launch into a lecture on Oolian weaving. It was interesting, but lost hands down to thoughts of my golden dream man.

When I returned to my contemplation of Tom, I nearly snorted in disbelief at my subtle prevarication. The images I used suggest a calm and stately pursuit or pleasant journey together. I am not calm. Far from it. Like the old song, I am bewitched, bothered, and bewildered.

Much more profoundly than my brief attraction during our first meeting, this love for another man---for Tom Paris---has shaken me from my moorings, the foundation upon which I built the life I knew before. My very identity has been thrown into doubt, sending my emotions into chaos.

I don't understand my own feelings. Why this particular blond out of the many I have met makes my spirits lift, my heart beat faster, and breath falter. Why he alone inspires dreams of sweet romance and vivid sexuality.

And hopes for a relationship that is unlikely at best. The differences in our ages, ranks, temperaments, and upbringings are obstacles enough. More daunting is our history, and the fact that I have no idea how Tom regards me. If, indeed, he ever thinks of me at all as a potential partner. Though he no longer sleeps around, and *didn't* get involved with B'Elanna, that's no reason to assume he'd be interested in a man. A dark-haired man. A dark-haired man with a tattoo.

For me, it doesn't seem to matter that there was a time I didn't trust Tom, that in years past I despised him. That when he really makes the effort he can still annoy me more than any ten people put together. None of that changes my yearnings. I love him. It is both a joy and a torment. And, it seems, a permanent condition.

I was mistaken. Tom isn't a lodestar, guiding my path. He is a lodestone, a magnet drawing me inevitably to him. I doubt the pull will ever ebb, and I have no defenses against it. So I hide these unsettling emotions as best I can and continue as his friend. If Tom ever wants anything more, from me or with me, he needs to make the first move.

Gleesa's arm around mine drew my attention, and I quickly reviewed our conversation to make sure I haven't missed anything during my woolgathering.

I sensed Tom approach us and my own back stiffened at his air of agitation. The next few moments had an implacable sense of destiny about them.

A waiter with an ornate tray approached us, bearing a single large goblet of red liquid. Both Tom and Gleesa reached for it. Tom's fingers closed around the stem, but as he lifted it Gleesa's hand grabbed his and tried to jerk the glass her way.

The contents of the goblet flew into the air, sloshed out by their violent motions. I couldn't dodge the rain of liquid that splashed full into my face. A good bit landed in my mouth as I had opened it to protest Tom's actions, and I automatically swallowed the floral-tasting substance. I could feel the rest coating the skin of my face. My mouth opened again as I stared at Gleesa and Tom, dumbfounded and drenched.

***************

I couldn't believe it. I've done something I swore I'd never do again: humiliated Chakotay. At least this time it's in front of a bunch of strangers.

It's been years since I've deliberately tried to hurt him. But for a long time needling Chakotay was my modus operandi when dealing with the Mystic Warrior. It was the only way I could protect myself. And no doubt about it, I was and still am extremely vulnerable to his serene strength and smoldering sensuality.

My defenses kicked in the first moment I saw him. I was in that shitty bar I used as a home base in those depressing days between Starfleet and the Maquis. My nerves were twanging with tension as I waited for a contact to arrive with a rebel captain seeking a pilot. I needed to fly so badly I didn't care who the hell I did it for.

Every thought in my head disappeared the second Chakotay came into view. My breath also whooshed from my lungs and my blood rushed to take up residence in my cock.

He moved with an alert, smooth power, striding to the other side of the booth to slide onto the bench across from me. He was...magnificent. All animal grace and magnetism wrapped in sleek leather. The man's tribal heritage was evident, even without the striking tattoo decorating a face of masculine beauty that would have inspired legends and songs in ancient times. His dark brown eyes were an irresistible draw. I could sense their passion and command, and I was instantly afraid of what that fiery gaze would demand of me.

I had spent months burying my feelings, allowing myself only the most base and meaningless fucks as personal contact. Sex was oblivion for me, an outlet I knew I needed. I feared losing it, because I sensed stronger and more insidious addictions waiting in the shadows. I could *not* want someone this much and survive.

Desire, hunger, and deeper emotions urged me to reach out to Chakotay. But I instinctively knew that if I were ever encircled by those powerful arms I would never want to leave their embrace. That my solitary journey would end when I laid my head on Chakotay's shoulder, and slept listening to the beat of his heart. That profound, knee-weakening truth combined with the spark of my reawakening soul and sent me into a panic. I was not ready for this, capable of handling this. I reacted as I always did, by covering up my emotions with a cynical mask.

I wrenched my gaze from Chakotay's face as the introductions began. When it was my turn to speak I was aggressively annoying. I figured if I could get my new obsession angry, he would never become interested in me and I would never be at risk of losing myself to him. Because I would yield the moment he asked it, immediately and absolutely. And I wanted to surrender far too much to ever permit the opportunity.

I'm lucky I survived that first encounter. I deliberately insulted Chakotay, his people, the Maquis, anything and anyone I could think of. I was rather impressed that he didn't pop me one, and even managed to do a respectable job of bargaining for my piloting skills, albeit through gritted teeth.

Those few weeks in the Maquis were a tension-filled walk along the razor's edge. I was drawn to Chakotay and at the same time repelled by my fear of his allure. It didn't help that the Big Man led with a charm and charisma that fairly oozed from every pore. I don't think Captain Janeway realizes how much he's toned down his personality in order to keep the spotlight on her as Voyager's representative. Back then, even in the middle of a desperate struggle for survival, he had people hanging on his every look and word. Including me.

It was almost a relief to be caught by the Federation on my first mission for the Maquis. Out of sight, out of mind, I told myself as I toiled under Auckland's sun in the penal colony. Thus I relegated memories of Chakotay to the realm of steamy dreams.

Then Voyager reunited us. Absence *does* make the heart grow fonder. It did mine, at least. I felt compelled toward Chakotay more powerfully than before. But there was no way I could trust myself, much less my heart, into his keeping. He considered me a traitor twice over. So my increased feelings of vulnerability translated into even greater efforts to keep him at more than arm's length.

Again I skated along a very fine line, this time skirting the boundaries of insubordination. Perversely, his patience with me made me want to goad him even more. It would take days or weeks of subtle digs and insults, but eventually Chakotay would retaliate. His scorn was hard to bear, but I hid my pain as well as I did my need for him. And I kept provoking him. I knew I was crazy. Or more likely I was just crazy about him, and still terrified of the implications of loving my enemy.

At first I considered the Captain's secret orders to help find the spy my golden opportunity. I could taunt Chakotay as much as I wanted with her blessing. I probably went too far, but it was all for the ship. Or so I told myself.

I started to feel bad about my actions when Chakotay reacted as well as he did. He was so damned worried about me. Willing to set aside all of our previous disagreements to find a way to help. I felt like a heel, but couldn't ruin the Captain's plan. In typical Flyboy fashion I started resenting Chakotay for being so nice, making me behave even worse towards him.

When I was back on Voyager and appearing on Neelix's show, I knew I should have sewn my mouth shut before I let all that flippancy loose on the universe. On Chakotay. The Commander had been pretty scarce since he figured out just how he'd been duped. I realized my sarcastic dismissal of him was probably the worst thing I could have done. Adding insult to injury, etc., etc. The second Neelix stopped his broadcast I decided to get Chakotay one on one for a real apology.

I never got the chance. The next time we met, Chakotay stiltedly thanked me for my public statement. *Thanked me*. For humiliating him in front of the whole crew, right after the Captain's excluding him from the plan had ripped the ground out from under him. Crumbled his trust in others and faith in himself. I vowed at that moment never to cause Chakotay any kind of pain again.

Of course, he couldn't know my sudden good intentions, only my uncaring actions. It was so painful to see all the earlier concern in the depths of Chakotay's brown eyes shift to contempt. But even more agonizing was the underlying hurt and resignation that dulled his usually bright gaze.

I'd been prepared for Chakotay to hate me after the deception, but his reaction was so much worse. He became indifferent to my existence. Not just personally, but on duty as well. I realized that he'd lowered his expectations of me to the point where as long as I did my job he ignored me completely.

The shock of his uninterest woke something in me. I suddenly wanted to earn Chakotay's respect, to be deserving of his attention once more. While I didn't become a model officer overnight, I gave it my best shot. And surprisingly enough, I began to respect myself a bit more as well. I stopped playing the field; I was better than meaningless one-night stands. Mere physical release was no longer that appealing.

Chakotay warmed up to me, gradually. And somehow our low-key slide into friendship didn't trigger my panic. I was still incredibly attracted to my tattooed obsession, but I was able to keep that safely under wraps and keep our budding buddyhood on track.

Then I ran smack into B'Elanna's attraction for *me*. Or at least, her deathbed or whatever confession of love. It knocked the wind right out of me. I'd been so fixated on Chakotay I never even noticed her feelings changed. I didn't know what to think. Or to do.

I suppose I could have tried talking to Harry. After all, he *is* my best friend. But in all honesty, I didn't think he'd lived enough to have the perspective I needed. So I went to Chakotay.

It's ironic. Before I started talking to him I had almost convinced myself it would be a good idea to get involved with B'Elanna. For all her temper, prickliness, and insecurity, she was safe. She didn't make my palms sweat with nervousness or invade my dreams. She didn't make me yearn for her and burn for her when solitary late-night honesty lowered my guard.

But though she was safe, she could never truly touch me. Not in my heart or soul, where I needed to feel a connection. She was unable to access the places where Chakotay had already slipped under my defenses and taken up residence when I wasn't noticing.

Chakotay is a man of honor, fierce passion, and deep emotion. If my life were ever joined with his, I hoped I would be safe and cherished, desired and needed and loved. The way I wanted to make him feel.

But Chakotay is also strong-willed and decisive. I wasn't sure how much those qualities would carry over into his personal life. If I would be getting a dictator as well as a lover. That possibility was what held me back all this time.

But in the end, I was happier with my uncertainty about Chakotay than with the surety of a lackluster relationship with B'Elanna. So I rejected her as delicately and sincerely as I could. It was such a relief when she took my brush-off so well. Apparently her words were pretty much a slip of the tongue brought on by the fear of imminent death. Not the most ego-inflating moment in my life. She loved me, yes, but really as a friend. We went back to normal pretty quickly after that.

And I started to seriously consider courting Chakotay. In the last few months I'd seen more of the real man, warm and funny and not nearly so stoic as he tries to appear. He's been more open, and I was thrilled to learn some of his own background and history.

I just wished I could be sure *why* he's been so...trusting...of me. Whether this is just quid pro quo for my gut-spilling during our counseling sessions, an effort to move our friendship to a deeper level, or, just maybe, an invitation to something more.

I knew which one I wanted, and I wanted the chance for that future enough to interfere right now with what I was *sure* was an imminent come-on from that Oolian PM. The hairs on the back of my neck rose in warning the second I saw a suspicious glass heading Chakotay's way. I planned to get to it before that alien would-be seductress could.

Unfortunately, my clumsiness and her persistence have resulted in yet another embarrassing moment for Chakotay, this one completely unintentional. My fervent, silent pleas for him not to be mad at me were interrupted by shock as I stared at a staring Commander.

The liquid on his face wasn't dripping as it should. Instead, the red stuff was disappearing, sinking into his skin. That's when I noticed the silence all around us. Everyone seemed frozen in anticipation. Or horror.

Then the chief Oolian---Gleesa?---seemed to snap out of it with a gasp of fear. "Oh no!" she breathed as her eyes and nostrils and mouth flared wide. Then she whirled and began barking orders. "Prepare the Blue Room for immediate occupation!" She turned to a plump, middle-aged female. "Dr. Koor, will my contraceptives work with a human male? Do I need any special instructions for copulation with this species?"

"What?!" both Chakotay and I said together. We shared a brief look; frowning sable brows ordered my immediate apology. "Prime Minister Gleesa," I began, "I am so sorry for this accident, but respectfully, what the hell does a spilled drink have to do with contraception and a *human* male?"

An annoyed grunt beside me warned that I'd be paying for my colorful inquiry later, but damn it, I needed to know. Gleesa was trying to sling an arm around Chakotay's waist, and I was fighting the urge to fling her across the room.

Gleesa looked down her too-long nose at me. Typical. "Well, *youngster*, as you've just seen, your Commander has been doused with a rare Oolian concoction. I'm preparing to alleviate the effects of exposure."

"Just what *are* the effects?" Chakotay found his voice again. "And what exactly was in that cup?"

Gleesa shifted her attention to him completely as I silently fumed.

"The goblet and the substance inside are called the Lovers' Cup. It serves a very specific purpose in Oolian culture." Here the woman colored slightly. "The blend of herbs has an effect on sexuality. The potion lowers inhibitions, increases desire, and ensures potency. I was planning to offer to share it with you."

I could feel a bellow of outrage building. The only thing that held it back was the stunned expression on Chakotay's face and the worried one on Gleesa's.

Chakotay's high cheekbones were warmed by a flush of embarrassment as he cleared his throat and said, "Your offer is very generous, Madam, and I ask you not to take my refusal as a personal affront. But I think it would be better if I simply...endured the discomfort in privacy. So if you could lead the way...?"

I shifted closer to Chakotay's side, determined *not* to be sent alone to the shuttle like a good little lieutenant. Gleesa, however, wasn't budging.

"I'm afraid that isn't an option, Commander Chakotay. You've absorbed twice the usual amount---through no fault of your own," she was quick to point out as she glared at me. "That is not a common occurrence, but we do know what to expect. Unfortunately, overdose can be a fatal condition. If you do not have intercourse soon, your body will overheat, sending you into a coma and quite possibly, death."

A quick intake of breath beside me was the only sign Chakotay had heard. I felt dizzy as I considered the unintended consequences of my unfortunate accident. Chakotay had to fuck, or die. And I couldn't let him go off into the manicured hands of some alien female.

It's true that I was still afraid of getting involved with Chakotay. Of becoming addicted to his touch, of losing my very soul to the man. But there was no way I was going to let anyone else share his bed. His life was *mine*. Mine to save. It was time I reminded him of that. And informed her fox-faced Prime Ministerness. But before I could open my mouth, Gleesa was speaking again.

"So what was to be an offer, an opportunity for you, Chakotay, is now a necessity. Of course, I volunteer to---"

"No," I interrupted, my voice certain. "We can't take the risk." 

I softened my glare but conceded nothing. "We have very strict protocols involving interspecies relations. Our doctor needs to analyze the contact, down to the biomolecular effects. There have been near-disasters in the past when members of our crew ignored the rules." 

A wave of my arm asked for the exit. "Now, if you'd show us to the Blue Room?" Chakotay was looking at me strangely but remained silent. I wondered if the stuff was already taking effect.

Gleesa spun on her heel and led us out. But she refused to give up the battle, grabbing one of Chakotay's arms even as I closed my hands around the other. I could just picture us having a tug-of-war, with Chakotay as both the rope and the prize.

The Oolian fumed, "You don't seem to understand, Lieutenant. Your superior has consumed a massive amount of a potent aphrodisiac." Her voice sank to an urgent whisper. "If he doesn't penetrate and ejaculate within another body, he's dead."

We reached a set of open doors and paused. "Yeah, I got it. 'Fuck or die'," I assured her. "Only difference between my plan and yours is, Chakotay's going to fuck *me*."

Chakotay peered at me another moment, gauging my sincerity. Or perhaps my sanity. Whatever he saw in my expression must have convinced him, because he turned to Gleesa and lifted her hand. Laying a kiss on the back of it he said, "Thank you again, Madam, for volunteering your services. But I believe the lieutenant has things well in hand."

With that, he left us both staring after him as he sauntered into the room. A few steps past the threshold he looked over his shoulder and cocked an eyebrow at me. "Coming, Tom?" he purred. Purred!?!

"Not yet," I muttered as I slid into the room and closed the door on Gleesa's shocked face. I set the locks and wondered what the hell would happen next.

***************

I watched Tom lean his forehead against the door a moment, probably contemplating escape. My eyes traveled up the lines of his uniform, along his slender legs, lingering on the taut curves of his ass outlined in black. Then I continued my visual journey, tracing the expanding column of his torso past his ribs and shoulders. The exposed nape of his neck beckoned me, but I was more interested in his hair.

Tom was still a blond, but not the same one whose sun-spun locks tempted me all those years ago. His hair was darker now, the shade recalling Dorvan fields of wheat waving in the breeze. The cut was different, too, closer-cropped, more...serious, more mature. It well reflected the transformation of the man himself.

And in a way, the changes in me, that shifted Tom from a body to be briefly lusted after to a person---body, heart, mind, spirit---whom I will probably love for life.

Then my blond beauty turned and I felt an overwhelming urge to pounce. To leap across the small space separating us, grab Tom's hands in one of mine and keep him pressed against the door as I ripped the clothes from his body, the shreds fluttering to the floor.

I could feel the heat uncoiling in my belly and tingling along my limbs as I shifted into the stance of a predator, ready to spring and seize my prey.

The nervous twitch of Tom's long pale fingers stopped me.

Since I began to look at Tom through the eyes of a would-be lover, for months I've enjoyed simply watching him. The lightness of his movements, the sparkle of his eyes, his infectious grin.

And especially, the expressiveness of his hands. His fingers move with such assurance, whether dancing over Voyager's Conn or flicking out to punctuate a comment or emphasize a concern. Always, they speak with silent eloquence.

Right now they were beating a sharp message of terror, or at least anxiety, against the door. I shifted my gaze to confirm my suspicions. The slight heave of Tom's chest, his nervous swallows were further evidence of unease. They belied the carefree grin and darkening eyes.

I took a deep breath and relaxed. The aphrodisiac was behind this drive to ravish, to take. That's not what *I* wanted. This was my first time with a male partner---a very special one. This should be an experience to savor, and Tom someone to appreciate. To cherish. To love.

I decided I'd better keep my hands to myself until I could calm down a little. I made my way to a chair and sat to slip off my boots and socks. As I stood to unfasten my jacket I felt Tom's eyes on me.

In the charged silence I removed my jacket, turtleneck and trousers. I looked up to see that Tom had collapsed against the door, staring. My lodestone, my magnet, stood there, wordlessly summoning me. His hands were still, spread against the door. Waiting.

I couldn't resist the pull any longer. First I stretched, long and leisurely, letting all the tension slide away into anticipation. I enjoyed the slither of silk against my skin as I walked over to Tom.

***************

Shit, Oh Shit, was my mantra as I tried to melt into the door.

Earlier when I was turned to face the wood I could *feel* Chakotay's eyes on me, traveling up my body, lingering on my ass and oddly enough, my hair. I finally managed to move, flopping against the panels as I turned myself over.

I was immediately pinned by eyes that had heated and dilated with burgeoning desire. They glittered in a face that was more sharply drawn then usual, as if the aphrodisiac had somehow honed Chakotay's edges. Made him obviously dangerous, not the subtle threat I'd gotten used to over the years.

Locked in a room with him, I was overwhelmed by his aura. Chakotay was just so damn *male*. I felt powerless before six feet of well-built testosterone, surveying me like everything he saw was his for the taking.

I was barely able to hold back a whimper as Chakotay coiled himself to spring. Fear---no, a mix of anxiety and eagerness---set my limbs shaking and fingers restlessly drumming against the surface beneath my hands. I hoped Gleesa wasn't still on the other side. I tried to grin, no big deal, just a casual fuck between friends, you know, but the expression felt frozen on my face.

Then Chakotay seemed to find some wellspring of calm within himself. He moved away to sit, and I began to relax.

Of course, I tensed up again immediately when I saw he was undressing. I was mesmerized. I couldn't tear my eyes away as I watched him remove garment after garment, exposing sleek golden-brown limbs.

My mouth went dry as I realized he was wearing black silk boxers and tank top under his uniform. The fabric suited him, sensually caressing his form, shimmering against his skin. He stretched, and I nearly moaned in appreciation of the muscles pulling and releasing before my eyes.

Then Chakotay was languidly approaching me, the sway of his hips more animal glide than human stroll. I felt like a rabbit trapped before a stalking panther. Hungry eyes traveled all over me, mapping their territory. My pulse beat fast in my throat, my breath shuddered through me. There was nowhere to run, even if I wanted to.

I could feel the rising heat of Chakotay's body as he drew close. The scent of him was tantalizing. I was surprised when Chakotay didn't grab me. Instead he pressed his hands to the door on either side of my head and leaned in until there were only millimeters between us.

Then those full lips brushed against mine in the most delicate of caresses. Once, twice, thrice. Their soft touches wandered along my cheek, across my forehead and down to bestow butterfly kisses against my eyelids. A skin-tinglingly slow journey lowered them to my jaw and neck, where they were joined by teeth for gentle nips. I moaned, deep in my throat.

Chakotay leaned back and gave me a smile full of seductive charm. One dimple flashed, then faded as half-closed brown eyes observed my flushed cheeks and trembling limbs. Then his knowing gaze lazily wandered down to focus on the erection smashed against the seam of my pants.

When a tonguetip peeked out for a quick swipe along the curves of that lush mouth I nearly groaned again. My silence was no cover, though. It was clear Chakotay recognized my surrender.

I was surprised when his eyes released their hold. Chakotay sank to his knees in front of me, his warm grip surrounding my ankles one at a time to lift each leg and remove my footwear. When he stood to rid me of my jacket my eyes were drawn to his hands.

I have always admired them, their tawny strength and sure grace. People say I have artist's hands, but artist's model's may be more accurate. They're pretty, and that catches the eye. But Chakotay's hands are true works of art. Those broad palms and well-formed fingers can build, and carve, and tend. Nurture, and protect, and create. They are the hands of a craftsman, a student of not only the martial and decorative arts, but also the more practical ones that go into establishing a home.

Not to say my own hands are idle, or useless. But I often wish I had Chakotay's ability to create beauty that lasts beyond our own lifetimes.

And now those hands would be on me. As I've both yearned and dreaded for years. The golden-brown fingers slid along the seams of my clothing, black and gray, making the garments smoothly disappear.

All too soon I was left with tank and shorts, same as my silent companion. I couldn't decide if my stomach was swirling with anticipation, or trepidation. I watched those hands drift inexorably toward me again, but then they retreated and clenched into fists.

"Tom?" Chakotay's voice was hoarse, but concerned. I looked into his dilated eyes and I could see him struggling to maintain his control. Sweat made his skin gleam in the room's light. I knew Chakotay needed sex. Needed me. And yet he hesitated. He rasped, "Are you sure you want to do this, Tom?"

Chakotay shifted closer to me, and laid a gentle palm against my face. Its heat was a brand on my cheek, but the gravity of those dark eyes held my attention as his soft voice continued. "I've never done this before. I'll do my best not to hurt you. But that's all I can promise, Poocuh."

I swallowed again, squared my shoulders, and firmed my jaw. I knew Chakotay well enough to be sure he wasn't going to make another move until I gave him some kind of sign I understood what he was saying. That I was willing to take the risk.

There's no hesitation in me now, no skittish deliberations. I wanted Chakotay more than anyone, anything, in my life. It was time to convince him of that, to shift from prey to partner.

I closed the tiny gap between us, lifting my hands to shape the broad shoulders, to slide along a powerful chest covered in hot black silk. I pressed my mouth to Chakotay's, opening my lips and using my tongue to encourage him to do the same.

At my wordless reassurance he cupped the back of my head in one hand. With a sound like a growl he moved into the kiss and demonstrated just how talented one man's tongue can be. The sensations he sparked as he slid along my palate and gums had me moaning in zoned-out bliss. He twined his tongue with mine for a few playful games of tag, then settled down to the business of melting my brain with even more passionate kisses.

His other hand snaked down my back, drawing me away from the door. We pressed close together, erections teasing each other through layers of cloth.

I lifted my head, seared by the heat of Chakotay's gaze. I wet my swollen lips and said, "Cha, take me to bed."

***************

That request added fuel to the need burning steadily within me. I searched Tom's eyes a moment. Yes, he was willing. That's all I needed to know.

I felt as though my desires had been straining at the leash of my control for far too long. His words loosed the restraint. In two heartbeats I'd stripped Tom of his underclothes and casually tossed his long body over one shoulder.

I could hear him sputtering as I swiftly strode across the room to dump him on his back on the bed. The royal blue of the coverlet turned his body into a gilded work of art, a naked Renaissance angel against a sky at the edge of night.

Tom is only a few centimeters taller than me, but he is built along very different lines. Lean and sinewy, his muscles elegantly adorned long bones. I was fascinated by the way the room's light sparkled and winked against the gold hairs decorating his runner's body.

Forearms and chest, shins and thighs, belly and balls, each sported a different texture of bright filaments. I settled onto the bed beside my soon-to-be lover and used one hand to circle a slender ankle. I traveled up his left leg, pushing against the tiny strands tickling the lengths of my fingers.

I squeezed the smooth cap of Tom's knee, then continued my journey, stroking the surface of one thigh up to where it flowed into the slight curve of his hip.

A moan drew my focus higher to see the flash of teeth as Tom gripped his bottom lip. His eyes were closed. I heard a sound of agreement rise from my own chest as I shifted to kneel closer beside him. I was intrigued by the sight of a long penis rising from a thicket of darker, crisper curls. But I continued to explore the rest of my blond's body.

I raised one of his hands to my mouth, licking at the thin inner skin of the wrist, gently biting the base of his palm, sucking his fingers. Each time Tom groaned in response I felt an answering rumble run through my own body.

I kept his left hand in mine as I ran the other along his arm to caress his shoulder. Then I moved the pale limb aside so I could rub my silk-clad chest against his naked one.

It was a strange sensation, the tiny hairs prickling me through the cloth. I was surprised when Tom's legs parted to make space for me. I settled my body fully over his, slowly grinding, feeling his small nipples harden as I brushed against them. I sensed the precum from my cock and his dampening my boxers. It was time to get rid of them. I slid off Tom, taking my time, then swiftly removed my clothes and tossed them away.

"Lube," Tom said, startling me. I tilted my head a moment as I contemplated him. I could feel my smile curl slowly as I once more enjoyed Tom's allure, the way the sight of him tugged at my senses and heart.

Then I turned away and rummaged in a nightstand drawer. Pulling out a small vial, I uncapped it and sniffed. A pleasant, light citrus scent greeted me. I tested the consistency of the liquid. It was oily, gleaming against the tips of my fingers. Perfect.

***************

I still hadn't moved far beyond my mental refrain of Shit, Oh Shit, and moaning. Chakotay hadn't been giving me much time to think, teasing me with his hot hands against my skin. I wanted his solid weight back, pressing me into the bed. I needed more, his nakedness, his mouth on me, his cock inside me.

I saw Chakotay flow across the mattress as he returned to my side, vial in hand. I was actually kind of impressed with myself. I wasn't sure I'd be able to get that single syllable coherently out of my mouth after I discovered what's been hiding under that uniform all these years.

Chakotay's body is all bronze satin, smooth skin covering muscles that made my fingers itch to trace their curving lines. He's completely hairless, except for a few soft-looking strands of black highlighting his ballsac, a background for his dusky cock. A mouth-watering length and weight jutting proudly between his strong thighs.

He was still purring---low throaty sounds like a contented panther---as he set the recapped bottle on the spread and stretched himself out beside me. I turned on my side as well to face him and slung my top leg over his hip. My right hand sank into his straight dark hair, bringing his mouth back to mine.

Chakotay came willingly, sliding our bodies together in a sweet, slick friction as cock met cock. My nipples were tight and tingling; I rubbed them against his smooth, sweaty chest, earning me a growl. Chakotay captured my lower lip between his teeth. He lightly chewed and licked, making me moan again and press my hips into his.

Then he moved along my throat, sucking one mouthful after another. The sensation was incredible and I arched my neck, wanting him to keep going all the way down my body.

Instead he chuckled and detoured along my collarbone, making sure his tongue bathed every millimeter. Then Chakotay shifted and surprised me by rubbing his face in my chest hair. He was purring again, and the vibrations set my skin tingling once more. I was whimpering by the time he settled his lips against my right nipple for a thorough suckling.

He teased it to a hard point, then nibbled. A stinging bite was followed by a cool breath, then a hot one. I could feel the nub throbbing for more as Chakotay slid way too slowly to the other one to give it a similar treatment.

My hands caressed along Chakotay's shoulders and up his throat to clasp his head and bring him back up to me. The heat of his skin was worrying me. When I was looking into his flushed face I said, "You've got to prepare me, Cha. We can't wait any longer."

I was surprised to see worry in those smoldering brown eyes. His left hand wandered down to walk the cleft of my ass, circling the opening to my body. He pressed a fingertip against it and said, "It's so small, Tom. Too small."

Warmth blossomed in my chest at Chakotay's concern. "No, we'll fit. You know we will." I picked up the tiny vial and uncapped it. I drew his hand up and coated his fingers. Then I gripped his wrist and brought it back down. "Do it," I murmured.

I felt him breach me with one finger, gently sliding into my body. The concentration in his expression was endearing, the brows drawn together, his lip clenched between his teeth as he tried to be careful. I didn't want careful. I thrust my hips down to his gasp of surprise and my groan of satisfaction.

He froze a moment, then relaxed, beginning to explore. I felt his hand shifting against the tight sphincter. After a few minutes he tried two fingers, slicking me, and we were both purring in approval. His other arm was wrapped around my neck, holding me close, stroking my shoulders and back.

Chakotay continued to open me as he leaned in to tease my throat with his mouth once more. His fingers found my gland and I stiffened with a gasp, my cock leaping with the extra stimulation.

A rumbling chuckle sounded in my ear as Chakotay explored the rim with his lips and tongue. I decided he wasn't the only tease in this bed.

Grabbing the oil, I coated my own palm and firmly gripped his erection, exploring the glans and shaft. The heat of it startled me, even though we were pressed skin to skin and I knew how high his temperature had risen.

Chakotay growled his appreciation and melted into my caresses. He shifted his hips, sliding further into my slippery grip, thrusting his fingers inside me in time with my movements on him.

Both of us were breathing heavily as he slid out and away. I shifted to my back and spread my thighs.

***************

Spirits, I *burned* as I moved into the vee of Tom's body and looked down at the offering before me. Tom's legs were flung wide, his throat bared, his chest rising and falling with his labored breaths.

I locked eyes with Tom as I gripped his hip with one hand and spread his buttocks with the other. My cock was dripping, eager. I was so desperate for this, the plunge into his strong, glistening body. I pushed into him and froze, feeling the muscles clamp down on the head of my cock like a vise of velvet.

After a moment or two I breathed and continued to sink into the smooth channel until my balls nudged Tom's ass. I shifted my hands to his thighs, wrapping them around my waist as I moved forward.

The thread that had stretched between us for months was no more. There was no space for it to span. We were pressed belly to belly, chest to chest. I slid my arms under Tom's back and shoulders, cradling his head. I leaned down and kissed him as gently as I could. I drew back, staring into wide blue eyes.

***************

I had expected to see the face of a conqueror, a smirk of triumph or knowing grin. The softness of Chakotay's expression set me trembling, just as he was but for a different reason. I was afraid, but not of this moment. Of the future. I knew I never wanted to be anywhere else but in Chakotay's arms, staring into his eyes, sharing our bodies. I wondered whether he felt the same thing I did, that somehow we were touching souls as well as skin.

But now was not the time. Chakotay was still holding back, waiting for me to get used to his bulk. The shivering of his flesh, the shuddering of his limbs were the last ragged edges of his control ready to give way.

I wrapped my legs around my lover's back and lifted my hips, giving him permission. He took charge, and took me.

His mouth covered mine, his wicked tongue returning to tease even as his cock began to piston inside me. His movements were strong and sure as he drew out almost completely, then returned, pushing hard against my gland with each stroke.

I went crazy with the jolts of pure pleasure shooting through me, over and over. I ripped my mouth from his, grunting and slamming my pelvis up to meet his thrusts. My fingers dug into his shoulders as the pressure built in me, an irresistible, impossible tension drawing me taut in Chakotay's embrace.

This heat, this desire, it wouldn't last long. It couldn't. I always knew it: I couldn't want---need---Chakotay this much and survive.

Then I felt Chakotay's fingers fumbling their way around my cock. I opened my eyes to find a fiery brown gaze boring into me. Toppling my defenses, blasting through the walls I'd erected years ago. Finding my heart and soul. Claiming me.

As he fisted my aching cock, moving in time with his thrusts into my ass, I groaned and arched, cum shooting out of me as the explosion of sensation tossed me over the edge. I was writhing, shaking, out of my head with the feelings of completion and release.

***************

The sight of Tom writhing and pulsing in orgasm branded itself on my brain. The squeeze of the muscles surrounding my cock was too great to resist. I growled and plunged my hips forward again and again, wanting to leave my seed, my essence, my mark in and on this man forever.

I could feel the coolness of the fever breaking as I slumped forward on my elbows a moment, my lungs heaving and limbs weak in the aftermath of the most profound sex of my life. I had to get off Tom or I'd crush him when my arms collapsed.

***************

I felt Chakotay very delicately pull out of me and slump on the bed at my side. I had to smile as after a moment he lifted me and himself enough to pull out the covers and slide us underneath. Then he turned me onto my side and spooned behind me, wrapping a solid arm around my torso.

The warmth---not fevered heat---of his skin made me sag in relief, and I heard a drowsy voice in my ear whisper, "Thank you, Poocuh." Then a quick kiss against my neck and Chakotay's even breaths behind me as he fell asleep.

I clasped my hands around a smooth bronze forearm and followed, the smile still on my lips.

************************************************************

Thirst woke me with a start and a weight on my body surprised me. I realized Tom and I had shifted in our sleep. He was now sprawled on top of me, his head on my shoulder and one arm reaching across my midriff to clutch my side.

For a few moments I indulged in the feeling of rightness. Of having Tom close to me, of the peace I felt with him in my arms. My fingers of their own accord ghosted through his hair a moment, along his cheek and across his broad shoulders.

Then with a reluctant sigh I extricated myself from the bed and went to get a drink.

I made sure the water was cold, both the liquid I swallowed and the amount I splashed on my face. I needed the jolt.

I had to wake up to the reality that I wanted---needed---Tom in my bed and my life. Permanently. All of my concerns, my questions, my uncertainties were gone. I knew who I was. I was the man who loved Tom Paris. Desperately.

That golden thread, the pull that had existed between us for months was now almost unbearable. It throbbed through me with every heartbeat, this urge to stake a claim, to bind this man to my side forever. Either that or die, consumed by this love. Spirits, it seemed I had lost all reason along with my heart and soul.

I ran a shaking hand down my face. As I pulled it away I realized that the tremors were from more than my emotional upset.

The fever was upon me again. It appeared the Oolian aphrodisiac hadn't yet finished its work. I ran into the bedroom. There wasn't much time.

***************

I woke on my back to one set of fingers running through my hair and their oiled counterparts sliding into the cleft of my ass. I looked up into Chakotay's flushed, tense face.

Dark brown eyes mingled regret and rising desire as Chakotay gritted, "I'm sorry, Tom, but that damn drink is driving me...it's too fast, too hot..."

He was right. His sweat dripped onto my skin. Chakotay was burning up; I knew we didn't have long. "Forget the prep. Just do it, Chakotay."

I huffed in annoyance as he stubbornly shook his head and slicked me for another minute. Then I felt his cock sliding into me, filling me like no one else ever had. I groaned in welcome.

When Chakotay was all the way in, he leaned down and pushed his face close to mine. His expression was dark and fierce, and the glitter of his eyes something primal. He slid out halfway and I swallowed, waiting for the harsh slam of his flesh into me.

Instead, Chakotay rolled us so I was suddenly straddling him. He growled, "Too much, too close, too dangerous" into my stupefied silence.

It took a moment for the lightning bolt to strike. He was keeping his promise to not hurt me. I reached an arm back and urged Chakotay to raise his knees. Using his smooth thighs as a brace, I sank down onto his pelvis, feeling the silken steel length of his cock impaling me once more.

I moaned deep in my belly. I'd forgotten how good this was.

Who was I kidding. It had never been *this* good.

I began sliding against my lover, rising and falling above him as I braced my hands on his shoulders. It was glorious, Chakotay's heat and strength and the softness of his skin against my back and between my legs.

After a few moments Chakotay caught my fast rhythm and matched it, thrusting up into me as his hands gripped my hips. Our eyes locked once more.

Through the rush of blood in my ears I finally realized Chakotay was saying something. On each movement into my body he grunted on a sharp puff of air, "Mine." His blazing eyes shouted it, demanded I respond.

And as I had known I would the first time I saw him, I yielded. Everything I had been, was or hoped to be became Chakotay's. His alone. Forever.

"Yours!" I shouted as I came. My untouched cock sprayed cum over Chakotay's smooth chest and belly as he lunged upward, emptying himself into me with a roar. Everything went white, then black.

***************

I hadn't realized I was chanting my claim until Tom answered it. Acknowledged it. Accepted it. The joy I felt at that moment sent me spiraling up and up into climax, my body arching until only my head and my heels remained on the mattress.

I hung there forever it seemed, held in the fierce clench of Tom's body as his semen splashed onto my skin and mine shot into the channel sheathing my cock.

But finally I began a languid descent, landing fully on the mattress, feeling the chill of beaded sweat as the fever broke, hopefully for good this time.

Tom's unconscious body tilted forward, and I carefully brought him down, rolling so we lay facing each other on our sides.

He was beautiful, his blond hair sweaty and mussed, his face at peace. I kissed his slack lips, pressed my forehead to his.

"I love you," I whispered, and felt sleep descend.

 

************************************************************  
************************************************************

 

I woke up, this time on my stomach. I was pretty spread out, and I had the sneaking suspicion I'd been searching for Chakotay in my sleep.

He obviously wasn't here on the bed with me. I rolled over and sat up with a grimace as I felt the soreness of muscles I hadn't strained that way in years.

The prick of tears threatened and I ruthlessly forced them back. Chakotay was under no obligation to wait around as I snored the morning away. He didn't even have to clean me up before he beat feet, but from the lack of gunk coating me that's apparently what he did.

I felt my shoulders droop as I rubbed my stinging eyes. What we said last night, *did* last night, was all the result of that weird Oolian drink. I couldn't force Chakotay into a relationship based on declarations made while he was under the influence.

No matter how damn much I wanted him. Needed him. Loved him. Shit.

I was startled from my building funk by the aroma of coffee under my nose, the dip of the mattress and a warmth at my side. "Your timing's perfect," Chakotay said as he handed me the mug. "Beverages just arrived, with Gleesa's compliments and an invitation to breakfast."

 

***************

Silence---*awkward* silence---reigned as I smoothed the cloth of my boxers and tank top and watched Tom sip his brew. I tried to keep my eyes from admiring his naked chest. The rest of him was safely tucked under the spread, but I remembered his sleep-softened face, his unaware smile as I washed off his body this morning.

Spirits, I didn't know what to do. What do you say to a man whose surrender you demanded when you had absolutely no right? I couldn't figure out how to begin my apology, much less the admission that I was fighting an extremely strong inclination to hold him to it. To force Tom to accept me in his life, his bed, his heart. That it hadn't just been the aphrodisiac talking.

As he probably believed. As he probably was relieved to believe. I mean, as far as I knew he's never given me a second look, certainly not a caring or even interested one. I sighed. I loved Tom too much to do anything except let him go. To let that thread stretch out again, no matter how painful the separation would be.

Sometimes my reputation for nobility really sucked.

Swallowing the huge lump of agony and regret in my throat, I said, "I wanted to thank you, Tom, for what you did last night. Saving my life a second time."

I flicked my gaze up and watched him set aside his half-emptied mug. I stared at his hands as he wrapped them around his drawn-up knees. I blinked back the mist in my eyes when I realized I'd probably never feel the touch of those slender fingers against my skin again.

I cleared my throat and continued, "I...we---we both said some things, last night. And---and I just wanted to let you know that I'm not going to force you...I mean, it wouldn't be fair...to hold you to them." I watched him closely, needing and dreading to see the relief on Tom's face.

***************

I remembered that look. The eyes, dark and sad and dull. The stoic front hiding immense pain. Chakotay's face appeared the same as it did that day after Neelix's broadcast. The moment I vowed never to hurt him again.

So why would letting me off the hook cause the same expression? The hope that leapt in my gut was almost painful in its intensity. Maybe it wasn't just the potion. Maybe he meant what he said. Maybe he wanted me last night. Maybe he still did.

This was my moment. My choice. To take the chance and all that I thought---prayed---Chakotay was offering. To accept the risks that came with it. I took a deep breath and pinned him with my stare.

"What does Poocuh mean?" I asked. I was kind of surprised. That wasn't the question I was intending to ask.

I don't think Chakotay was expecting it either. His face paled as he gasped, then swallowed. He chewed his lip nervously as his fingers pleated the hem of his top.

He looked so upset I backed off. "Listen, it doesn't matter. If it was just something that slipped out in the heat of the moment---"

"No," Chakotay interrupted me. His eyes had a hopeful, speculative light in them, the rekindling of a flame I now recognized as more than just the effect of an alien potion. "No, it wasn't. Or rather, it's valid in the heat of passion, but also in the calm of morning and the stillness of the night. All the time, anywhere, really."

He gave me a tentative smile and said simply, "Poocuh means beloved."

I stared silently at Chakotay as I absorbed into my soul that single word and all it entailed. I was still a little afraid of what it meant to be this man's beloved, but that's what I was. And what I chose to be.

So, as I always knew I would, I ended my solitary journey, my life alone. I opened my arms and embraced Chakotay. My heart sang as I laid my head on his shoulder and he wrapped me in his strong arms and held me close. "I love you, Cha," I murmured into the side of his neck.

"I love you too, Tom," he answered me, his voice warm and so very tender.

***************

I held my golden dream in my arms, and the feeling was better than anything I'd ever imagined. For an achingly sweet time we simply sat together.

Then Tom drew back and ran his fingers down my chest, playing with the silk. I shivered under his seductive strokes, then captured his hands and kissed them. "We don't have time for that if we want to get back to Voyager today," I said regretfully.

My blond love's brows quirked as he looked at me. "OK. I definitely want to leave the 'youngster' people behind. But tell me, what's the deal with the silk Skivvies?"

I grinned and leaned in to whisper, "I'm a closet hedonist---but don't tell anyone."

Suspicious blue eyes narrowed. "Really?"

"Yep," I admitted, "silk underwear, erotic massages, fine wine, gourmet food, the whole bit. Even satin sheets." I felt a flush of desire as my thumbs stroked his knuckles. "You'll look gorgeous against them."

Tom suddenly pushed me down on the bed and straddled me. "*You'll* look gorgeous against them, as I'm plunging my cock deep into your fantastic ass."

I rolled us, grabbing his wrists and holding them on either side of his head. I saw a flicker of something deep in Tom's eyes. Fear, perhaps. Fear of me?

Or maybe fear I'll go all "Commander" on him in the bedroom. I hope it doesn't take him too long to figure out that I want an equal partner, that I love him for who he is, feisty and spirited.

Besides, no self-respecting hedonist would turn down the chance to be fucked by such a stud.

I grinned down at him, then kissed his nose. "That can be arranged," I told him, and the joy and peace on Tom's face were like a tug on that golden thread binding my heart to his. Spirits, how I loved this man.

"After all, we have the whole day off after filing the mission report," I noted as I released him and moved away to sit on the edge of the bed. "Why don't you hit the shower? The sooner we get out of here, the faster we can get back to my bed. Or yours." I considered a moment. "*And* yours," I amended.

Tom laughed as he bounded off the mattress and headed toward the bathroom. "Well it sounds like your libido didn't get any artificial stimulation from that aphrodisiac," he teased. He paused in the doorway, his expression reflective. "I'll miss the growling though. Sexiest damn thing I've ever heard." He disappeared, but a few moments later water vapor and whistling floated out to me. Tom sounded very happy. And probably looked really sexy, all soapy and wet.

I could feel my mouth shaping into a grin as I slipped off my clothes and gave in to the pull of my blond, man-shaped magnet.

"What makes you think that was the drink?" I purred as I playfully stalked my prey through the steam.

END OF VERSION 2

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are welcomed with great joy and constructive criticism is treasured as a rare gift.


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